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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28186431">The Phoenix and the Swan</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cogentranting/pseuds/Cogentranting'>Cogentranting</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Once Upon a Time (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>F/M</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 21:35:08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,261</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28186431</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cogentranting/pseuds/Cogentranting</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>A fable style retelling of Emma and Killian's story. </p><p> </p><p>Originally written May 2016</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Captain Hook | Killian Jones/Emma Swan</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>13</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>The Phoenix and the Swan</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>There was once a Swan, graceful and lovely and strong. She was a gleam of silver moonlight, gliding through dark waters alone. She had been left alone long ago, and as she wandered across rivers and lakes, through deep forests and stormy skies, her sorrowful song rang out, calling to those she had lost. She repeated this song for many years until the sweet voice grew harsh. The song stopped, and the lost remained lost. But years of searching had made her wings grow strong. In all the land all but the greatest of fools stood in awe of the magnificent Swan, with her powerful wings and her cold moonlight grace. </p><p>There came a day– another story for another time– when what was lost was found. The long-silent song was answered, suddenly, unexpectedly, by a soft sweet note through the first quiet snow of winter. The Swan found her lost home and beat out victory with her mighty wings. The Swan gleamed like snow, and all the land saw her in her triumph. She was a beacon, a new sovereign to the land. They applauded and celebrated and came from afar to see the soaring Swan who shone with bright moonlight grace. </p><p>But the triumph was not all for the Swan. Her song had been answered, the sorrow was broken and gone. She was not alone and did not roam the waters in vain as before. But she had been long in the dark, long confined to the night. The absence of sorrow does not mean joy, and she waited in the dark with only the spark of her moonlight grace. </p><p>There was once a strange bird, quite unlike the Swan. He was sleek and dark, with razor talons and wings like deep night.  A hunter with the shadow of death in his wake. He had lived far too long, flying too far from the world. The land watched him with distrust and with fear; what good could come from a bird born from night?</p><p>The Nightbird had heard of the Swan’s grand kingdom. And that dark hunter heard news of the prey he had hunted for years having entered in there. The Nightbird heeded no warning to turn back and wait. Nothing would keep him from his prey. His jet-stone wings beat the air and his talons tore at the stars. He was strong, he was cunning, he was fierce; he was born from the darkness and would fear no moonlight grace. </p><p>And true, when he met the Swan, the Nightbird felt no fear. He saw the Swan in her moonlight grace, and the call of his hunt faded. The Nightbird drew close, and the Swan did not beat her wings at him. And in that night something changed. The ebony feathers no longer defied the light of stars; they glinted with a sheen of warm gold. </p><p>The Swan did not drive the Nightbird from her kingdom, despite her people’s confusion. Why did the queen of moonlight grace not see the danger of a Nightbird who, they began to think, even had something of a red glow around the charcoal feathers on his breast? But the Swan allowed him to stay, for perhaps his calls reminded her of her song of sorrow. She let him stay and watched him draw closer. And the closer he drew the more she could see that it was not reflected gold, or a red glow, that grew at his chest, but the spark of something burning deep within him. </p><p>The fiery light grew and with it came a love between the Swan and Nightbird. With each day he loved her more, and the flame within his chest burned warmer, brighter. And with each day she loved him more, and her moonlight grew more luminous. The fire beneath the Nightbird’s midnight feathers grew so strong that the people of the land could not help but notice, and they came to accept the Swan’s strange love for the Nightbird. Together the Nightbird and Swan illuminated the darkness she had traveled for so long. </p><p>But alas! There came a day, there came a Danger, and the hunter awoke within the Nightbird. The Swan was not there to call him home, and he chased after his prey once more. Further and further he flew into his old self, out into the empty, lonely nocturne until he found himself far from home and far from his Swan. Alone in the dark, the golden glow in his chest flickered, a failing ember. But a sound stayed his chase-- a lonely, lovely trumpet out of the misty seas of the land he'd left behind, the call of his Swan. He heard her call as she faced the Danger, and he raced toward her, a piercing bolt of shadow and flame through the nighttime woods. He arrived in time to here his Swan’s call, to see her fear, and he turned against the Danger. The Nightbird turned his razor talons against the Danger, and reminded the land that he was fierce, and he was strong. The Danger was defeated, but there the Nightbird fell, his fire fading, his ebony wings dulled. There the Nightbird died. </p><p>The Swan beat her wings and raged against the night. But it would not return her Nightbird. A new song rang from the Swan, more sorrowful, more heartrending than the last. The moonlight faded from her feathers, and her wings seemed not as strong. All the land stopped to feel the depth of the loss of the Nightbird’s flame. </p><p>Many days passed. The night was heavy over the Swan’s kingdom. Her wings grew strong again, and her moonlight returned, steady though not luminous. But her song of sorrow did not cease, for she had lost the flame against the darkness. </p><p>Her song echoed far and wide, past the limits of this world. And it was heard somewhere deep and far away. And there was struck a spark. </p><p>The Swan was singing her song and roaming her waters and nursing her moonlight grace when there came a spark. And another. And another. And before her eyes, just upon the shore, there rose up a great burst of flame and fire. The fire leaped and blazed, gold and orange and yellow and red and purple. The darkness retreated from the force of the fire’s light. The Swan stared in awe and thought she might never know darkness again. </p><p>The flames snapped and raged and twisted and slowly began to take shape. Tongues of flame became wings, and sparks became feathers. The flames died down and in their stead there stood a bird, a bird of brilliant gold and red and orange plumage that glowed like the sun against the night. </p><p>For a moment the Swan did not see. For a moment she did not recognize. Then a cry tore from her chest, a cry of joy and love that pierced the kingdom’s consciousness. And with that cry, all knew the Swan had found her love once more. </p><p>Now all the land knew that the Swan’s love was not a Nightbird– not a creature of darkness and hunting and fear. He never had been. He was a Phoenix– a creature of light and passion and loyalty that transcends darkness and death.  The Swan and the Phoenix sang a joyous song, their voices melding. They came together, bringing the fierce, fiery sunlight and luminous moonlight grace into one glow that defeated the kingdom’s darkness forever. And forever more, the Phoenix and the Swan flew together in strength and love and light.</p>
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